Spiritual Lint
by BonGarland
Summary: A Halloween oneshot! Darcy thinks it's a great idea to tour a haunted house on Halloween. What could go wrong? Established tasertricks and thane. Rated for a couple curses.


**Hey guys! Thought I'd get something up as a tasertricks halloween special, this just kinda came to me. Darcy's costume idea came from a tv commercial...Anyways, I own nothing, enjoy!**

* * *

The aged house stood forlornly at the end of an ill-maintained county road; the structure itself looked nearly new despite years of vacancy, an oddity in the midst of the choking shrubbery and weeds that had suffocated the surrounding lawn and garden. The color was somewhere between blue and gray, the shutters a dark charcoal, and none rattled ominously, which Darcy Lewis found a bit of a letdown.

Leaning across the gate that restricted access to the lengthy driveway, she stared at the house, wondering what was so great. Little spooky that it looked brand-new after all this time, but hey, maybe they'd used a killer varnish on the top coat of paint.

A breeze sprung up out of nowhere, strong enough to heft heavy locks of hair from Darcy's neck and send them flicking around and into her face. A thick chunk plastered itself across her mouth, and she squawked in annoyance through the mouthful of strands, swiping it away in annoyance.

She was eyeing the supposedly-haunted Anderson estate for a potential All Hallows Eve outing tonight, and was so far unimpressed, but she couldn't quit now. It had taken days to convince Jane to take the holiday's evening off from research, even with Thor's puppy eyes as backup. Her boss literally lived to work, and her latest potential breakthrough had resulted in drastic weight loss and sleepless nights. Darcy wasn't going to stand for it anymore, so she'd pitched the idea of a Halloween ghost tour after a quick google search of local ones. She also planned to shove several pounds of candy corn down Jane's throat at some point during the night.

In the end, it had actually been Darcy's insistence that visiting a haunted house counted as research and an educational foray, even if paranormal and a completely different field of science, that landed Jane's agreement.

The promise of oodles of candy had been enough to entice Thor.

His brother, however, had proven impossible to convince. Darcy was aware how ridiculous it must've sounded to the mischief god, the suggestion of wandering through abandoned, private property in the middle of the night, in his words. But she'd thought he might agree for her sake, like when she'd begged him to accompany her on a Starbucks run the other day at six am.

But no, and now she was going to be the third wheel on the vehicle _she_ had invented!

Irritably snatching the hair band from her wrist, Darcy shoved her long hair back into a messy bun, folding her arms across her chest as she leaned back from the fence, mouth twisting to the side as she thought. Two minutes, that was the bet to herself. Two minutes would be all it would take for Thor and Jane to separate from the group and find a dark corner to grope each other in, leaving Darcy alone with all the dweebs who indubitably comprised the rest of the group coming tonight.

Pulling the cheesy brochure from her back pocket, Darcy sighed, dialing the tour business' number and making a reservation for the three of them. She was told they filled the last spots, before the man hung up with a too-jubilant "happy Halloween". Darcy rolled her eyes, hopping back into the car to head back to the lab.

* * *

A quick search of the area had yielded this particular venue as the best for tours, on several different review websites. Built in the early 1920's, the expansive mansion had been a gift from an oil tycoon to his new, much-younger bride, some heiress from Europe. Or so the story went, likely romanticized beyond recognition. It went on to tell of how the young wife, constantly waiting at home while her husband travelled for business, finally succumbed to loneliness, taking their estate's steward as a lover. The man of the house had returned, finding them in a compromising position one stormy night, and killed them both, then himself. After that, no one could keep the house, or even stay in it overnight. Owner after owner fled the beautiful property just after nightfall on the day of signing the papers, defaulting on loans and incurring mountains of paperwork rather than face the spirits that purportedly roamed the halls.

* * *

"Nope, sexy cat is way worn out. No, bride of Frankenstein's wig broke me out in hives last time. Nope, not in the mood for the facial sauna that is the werewolf mask. Nah…"

Darcy was sorting through her pitiful arsenal of exhausted Halloween costumes of years past, trying to make a decision. The exuberant man on the phone had told her they were expected to dress up. Likely, he hoped they'd dress scarily enough to scare the shit out of each _other_ on their own in the house, eliminating a need for him to concoct some "ghostly interactions".

"You're being a cynic," Darcy snapped aloud, to halt her train of thought. "You're being _Loki_."

The man himself had been passing in the hallway outside her room in the now-expanded lab premises, and paused to poke his head inside the room. "Were you talking to me?"

"Nah, troublesome," Darcy assured him, still rummaging around in the closet. "Go discover a universe or harness a star or something, I'm just looking for a costume for tonight."

Frowning at her tone, which lacked its usual vibrancy, Loki edged into the room, leaning against the door frame while he waited for her to look at him. His dark hair was swept back, the gray vest he wore over a white shirt serving to highlight his emerald eyes. She didn't know why he insisted upon formal wear all the time, but he certainly cut a dashing figure. She couldn't complain at the view, even if she was miffed with him.

"Is everything alright?" His question pulled from ogling his tall form, and she blinked, formulating a response. Honesty was always best policy, right?

"I'm just super duper bummed that you won't come tonight," she murmured softly, throwing in a pout for good measure.

He was quiet, drumming the fingers of one hand against the door frame. "I'm terribly sorry, Darcy, but there is a particular star alignment that will only be visible at a certain time this evening…And I'm not sure it's wise to seek that particular sort of amusement on a night when the veil between worlds grows so thin." He turned on his heel, leaving her with that cryptic statement hanging in the air.

"Star arrangement my ass," Darcy muttered angrily, turning back to her closet. Something caught the edge of her vision, and she turned to see an outfit she hadn't worn in years, laid out on her bed. It was called Sexy Ben Franklin or something, comprised of a half-sleeve peasant blouse topped with a tight vest that set her chest on display, short charcoal-gray shorts, pale tights, and brown leather steam punk boots she'd bought to complete the look.

It hadn't been there a second ago, and Darcy cut a deep scowl towards the empty doorway.

"You wish, Einstein."

* * *

Three hours later, she was indeed dressed as Ben Franklin, but definitely not out of any last-minute hope that Loki would see the outfit and agree to come, nope. She'd simply grown tired of staring between all her older costumes, and was unwilling to go to town to get a new one. And the shorts would be a perfect wardrobe accessory for a chilly autumn night, of course.

Jane was clad in none other than her old cheer-leading outfit. Darcy was stuck between shock at the fact Jane had ever been a cheerleader, and that the outfit was kept, and that it still fit her. Was loose, even, a fact that Darcy uncomfortably noted. French fries for every meal for the next month, she'd make sure it happened.

Thor was, of course, a high school football jock, to match Jane. Although where he'd found a Viking warrior-sized letterman jacket, she'd never know. He sported the garment as easily as his heavy armor, lounging on the couch with an arm around Jane as they waited for Darcy.

She was putting the finishing touches on her makeup, and patting into place the elaborate pinned-up bun she had concocted to look 1776-ey. Whirling on the spot with a flourish, she put a hand on her hip. "How do I look?"

Jane grinned, eyebrows wiggling as she looked Darcy up and down. "Definitely late 18th-century chic, Darce." Thor just had a pained look of incomprehension on his face.

"I'm Ben Franklin," Darcy explained to the confused god. "He, uh, was super important in Midgardian history. Yeah." Trying not to crane her neck down the hallway or down onto the first floor landing to see if Loki was around to see, Darcy took one last look in the full-length hallway mirror, before grabbing her keys. "Let's get this show on the road, prom king and queen!"

Thor had that pained look on his face again, and Jane patted his shoulder consolingly.

* * *

The drive to the house took about an hour, and Darcy was just glad they hadn't needed to drive to the tour agency's office, and then be driven in some Mystery Machine knockoff to whatever was on the night's ghostly menu, as some of the other guests would.

Studiously ignoring the noises coming from the backseat, Darcy wished she had split them up, one in the passenger seat and one in the back. She felt like a chauffeur for an actual prom king and queen.

Jane gave a breathy giggle, and Darcy hit the brakes just a little too roughly as she brought them to a stop down the road in a designated parking area for tours.

Stepping out, she shivered. Her tights and shorts were cute enough, but she was going to freeze her ass off if the haunted house hadn't managed to whip up some electricity for their visit.

Rubbing her hands together, she checked to make sure her phone was tucked safely in a pocket of her shorts, and retied the laces of one of her boots.

Jane and Thor finally left the backseat, the petite scientist immediately cuddling into the curve of the Norse god's arm for warmth. Darcy sighed inwardly, wishing desperately that Loki had come. Turning at the sound of another engine, they spotted a dark van with green lettering on the side approaching.

Darcy suppressed a snicker at the sight of it, lurching to a stop near her car. She forced a straight face as a short man in a purple polo hopped out, moving to slide back the door and release five people from the confines of the van. Two girls, arms linked and wearing the tightest, shortest purple dresses Darcy had ever seen climbed out, struggling to keep their balance on the gravel in four-inch heels. A trio of men followed, one wearing jeans and a flannel shirt, one in a monk's robe, and one wearing a too-tight red jumpsuit with red horns on his head.

Purple Polo Man approached, clapping his hands together. "Fantastic! I think that makes all of us! You must be…Miss Lewis?" At Darcy's nod, he looked to Jane and Thor. "And Miss Foster and a Mister Odinson, right?" They nodded, merging with the rest of the group to form a pack behind Purple Polo. "Excellent, well, I'm Peter, and here we've got Tiffany and Tasha, who are Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum tonight-" he gestured to the two giggling girls in purple- "and we've got Brad as the Brawny paper towel man, Dan as a monk, and Mike as the devil!" Everyone said hellos, and the monk guy even gave Darcy an eager hug, whispering something about the holiest ones being the dirtiest, straight into her ear. She shuddered, trying not to look like she was ready to tase him, if she'd had the weapon on her person.

Peter pulled out a set of keys, leading them down the lane towards the locked gate. Once they were through, he started a running monologue, giving the usual date the house was built, how things quickly went south, what people now reported seeing, and things like that. Darcy's dismay was increasing with each passing minute, knowing Loki would laugh with her about the situation.

* * *

When they approached the wide porch of the house, the scene was suddenly illuminated by a burst of lightning in the sky above, and one of the Tweedles shrieked dramatically. Darcy, unfazed by thunder or lightning anymore, raised an eyebrow and looked at Thor. But he was blinking at the sky, brow furrowed, and he shook his head at Jane before whispering a response to something she asked him. Darcy shrugged, turning back to start ascending the porch, which of course creaked ominously beneath her boots.

They entered a richly-decorated foyer, and Purple Polo reached into a messenger bag slung over his shoulder, handing out flashlights and whistles. "Now, I'll be describing the house's layout for the first fifteen minutes, so I just ask that you hang around for that. After that, everyone can sort of spread out, but please have someone else with you, and whistle if you get into any sort of trouble. It's a really big house, and the hallways are deceiving…"

The group followed him down the front hallway, entering a large sitting room. Darcy immediately moved towards an antique writing desk against one wall, squealing quietly as she ran a hand across its glossy lid. Looking up just as Peter said something about rumored secret passageways linking the master bedroom to several different areas of the house, she saw a bouncing light in the next room, probably Jane and Thor breaking off to make out already. Moving through that doorway to tell them they could wait _five minutes_ and look around with her for a minute, she saw the light moving across and into yet another room beyond that one.

Peeking behind her at the members of the group she could see, Darcy made sure no one would see her wander off, and continued to follow the light. So focused on her own footing, she didn't notice one door close behind her, shutting her off from the group, and then the next that she passed through. She finally stopped when she had crossed through several rooms, her hisses of "Jane! Thor!" garnering no response. A sudden bang from the direction of the front of the house sounded, like someone had knocked on the front door or shut it forcefully, and Darcy jumped, turning around.

"Hello?" No one responded, and she turned back around, seeking the light she'd seen. She could no longer see it, and everything was still and dark beyond her. A shiver ran down her spine, and she told herself it was normal to pretend to be scared, to enhance the experience. She was in what looked like a smaller parlor, the decades-old furniture making grotesque shapes in the dim circle of light her flashlight afforded. Tiptoeing to the door of the room, she was relieved when it actually turned and opened, admitting her into a wide hallway.

She shivered, the already-cool temperature seeming to drop further around her. She spotted a curling staircase ahead of her, near the end of the hallway, and made her way towards it cautiously. Suddenly, a hoarse yell sounded from the floor above, echoing down the wooden stairs. A feminine wail rose to accompany it, before a loud bang seemed to cut each noise off. Darcy stopped cold, a hand clenching on the banister before her, one boot on the bottom step of the staircase.

She didn't want to be the victim in a horror movie, but fear was taking a pretty firm grip on her senses, to her annoyance, and Darcy swallowed heavily before venturing another "Hello?" up the stairs.

Another muted boom sounded from upstairs, a thump following soon after, and that was the only response. Closing her eyes firmly, Darcy kept a firm grip on the banister, pulling herself up the stairs. Someone of the tour group could be hurt, she thought, trying to ignore the creepiness of several portraits that lined the wall the stairs ran along. The painted gazes seemed to follow her, and she was already cursing her stupid idea to come here.

"Pretty elaborate setup, Purple Polo," she suddenly called aloud, determined to prove the tour guide had staged what she had already experienced. A door shut loudly below, and she slowly inched her gaze behind and below her, swallowing again. Her flashlight's beam hesitantly moved to cover the staircase below her, but showed nothing there.

* * *

She resumed climbing the staircase, which seemed to have no end, until she finally reached a large square landing that a hallway branched off from. Darcy squinted into the murky blackness, broken only by faint moonlight pooling on the aged carpet from the moon outside, but she couldn't see much, just more doors and the odd side table in the hallway.

A shriek suddenly sounded from somewhere in the house, but it seemed to echo around her and she couldn't tell where it came from, whether up a floor, down a floor, on the other end of the mansion. Trying to gauge its origin anyways, she climbed up another set of the stairs, to the next landing, craning to hear. All she could detect was some sort of dragging noise, and it sounded closer by the second.

Whirling around at the rustling noise behind her, Darcy tried to summon words. "This isn't funny anymore, I know I paid for the experience but-" A strong shove sent her off balance, and she flailed, struggling for a grip on the banister as the flashlight flew from her hand. Her left boot couldn't find purchase, and she let out a shriek before tumbling down the steps she had already climbed. She felt a knee knock painfully against a step, before her head hit the edge of the banister with a resounding bang.

She thought she heard her name, and muttered something about shoves before introductions being rude, before the stars behind her eyes took over.

* * *

She couldn't tell how much later it was when she came to, only that she was being carried by someone, someone tangible, who was whispering something under their breath. A creepy blue orb of light was illuminating their path when she opened her eyes. She mumbled, consciousness fully returning with a pang of alarm, and she began to struggle.

"_Darcy, stop it. It's me._" The familiar accent was like a bucket of cold water tossed over her head, and she went lax in the arms of her captor. "Loki? What the _f-" _She was shushed again, a tendril of Loki's magic pushing at her mouth, and she was suddenly annoyed. "Was it _you? _Did you plan to come all along and scare the living begeezus outta me and make me-"

He silenced her with a quick kiss to the lips, gently setting her back on her feet as he did so. Keeping a grip on her arm to ensure she could stand, he nodded at her costume. "I had no idea this costume would look _that_ agreeable, or I'd surely have attended this ridiculous function. As it was, I had…a bad feeling, and made my way here. I was able to track your presence, but of course you would be the _one_ person in the house who is completely separated from the rest of the group, and the deepest in trouble-"

A door slammed down the hall they were in, and Darcy jumped, keeping her eyes locked on Loki, whose eyes narrowed at something behind her.

"What is happening?" Her voice was very quiet, almost a whimper, and Loki's thumb rubbed a comforting pattern over her shoulder before her slowly moved in front of her, grip moving to her hand to pull her along with him.

"Some humans…have a sort of magic…that is, when they encounter the afterlife…" He was murmuring distractedly, peering into any open doorways they passed. "There is a reason human's stories of ghosts and phantoms have persevered through the centuries. When one dies, they pass through the realm of death, and sometimes magic can snag on them, like lint on that winter coat of yours." Darcy raised an eyebrow at the metaphor, but it was hidden by the darkness. "That magic can enable the spirit to linger, return to a location of its choice and dwell for an undetermined amount of time, essentially. Then you have what you would call a ghost." His rushed explanation flew over her head for the most part, but she grasped the part where ghosts could be real.

"D'you mean I encountered a real ghost…?"

"There is _some_ sort of presence in this house, yes, and on nights like All Hallow's Eve, like I said, borders between realms become a little skewed and weaker, hypothetically strengthening that presence's abilities. This one seems to be replaying the unfortunate occurrences in this mansion from decades ago."

"I got shoved down stairs." Her voice was casual, as if she were observing the weather.

"As I am frightfully aware of," Loki replied, casting another glance at her, eyes glinting in the light from his magic. "How does your head feel? I cast a basic healing spell but I need to conserve my magic for whatever we are dealing with…"

"Better than when it hit a solid wooden beam," Darcy admitted, rubbing at the lump on the back of her head with a grimace. Suddenly, she froze, her hand clenching painfully where it gripped Loki's, and she whimpered, eyes closing as a slideshow of images assaulted her mind.

A woman in a high-necked green dress, laughing from her position in the lap of a man wearing white collared shirt and suspenders. Her laughter cutting off as she turned to look Darcy straight in the eye. Gasping and lurching to her feet. A bang. Blood blossoming across the pretty green dress, its wearer crumpled on the floor.

Darcy came back to herself with a gasp, tears filling her eyes. "_What-was-" _Loki was fully alarmed now, pulling Darcy to him and examining her face. "What did you see?"

"It was like, someone else's memories, what the hell, am I possessed?"

"It appears something is trying to send a message by channeling through you," Loki surmised, stroking a lock of her hair back from her face. "We've got to leave." Closing his eyes, he closed his arms around her firmly. "Hold on."

* * *

A moment later they were back in the foyer of the house, which felt infinitely less welcoming than it had when a tour group was excitedly entering. Loki looked confused at their surroundings, and closed his eyes again. The nausea his teleporting elicited was less and less each time Darcy experienced it, but it was still there, the room spinning lightly.

She pulled away from Loki, taking a deep breath, while he cursed under his breath.

"Lemme guess, you can't get us out, huh?" At his reluctant nod, she grinned. "Thought so."

* * *

Sometime during the night, Darcy had lost her phone, she noted after a frantic patting of her pockets.

"Of course it won't be that easy," she grumbled to herself, "Haunted house isn't gonna let me speed-dial Jane and ask where the hell she is and she and Thor come trotting right out to meet us-" A door slammed behind Darcy, who screamed, flinging herself behind Loki.

He turned into her, gripping her face thoughtfully. "May I see?" Knowing what he was asking, Darcy nodded, figuring it could only be helpful for Loki to see what she had seen a moment ago, at the ghost's insistence. He fingers pushed lightly at her temples and he muttered a quick phrase, eyes closing in concentration. She could feel his magic probe at her mind, seeking entrance, and then her mind was quickly rushing through the visions she'd been shown earlier.

A moment later, it stopped, and Loki pressed a kiss to her temple, moving away to pace the room. "We must find the others, and a way out."

As if on cue, a tinny rendition of a Backstreet Boys' song filled the room, and Darcy jumped. "My _phone!_" Seeing a faint light coming from the drawer of a side table, which she had _not_ opened earlier, Darcy raced to it, finding her phone inside. The caller ID said unknown, and she eyed it warily, answering it on speakerphone.

Radio silence, just a blank crackling, and then a woman's laugh. Then a door opening, and a scream, silenced by a bang. Then the line went dead. Darcy dropped the phone back onto the desk, grabbing a loose lock of hair and nervously winding it through her fingers for a moment in silence. Then she dropped it, snapping her fingers. "I think it's the woman. I think she thinks another woman would understand – being bored, yada yada, husband doesn't love me, I'm neglected bla bla bla, assuming that story about this place is true – and she's…What, asking me to avenge her? Little hard, her gravestone was carved before my mother was born I bet."

"Perhaps she is trapped," Loki mused, flipping the little ball of light around his fingers like Darcy did with pens when she was bored. "Maybe it was not her intent to linger, and she is trying to show that, but no humans before you have understood."

Darcy nodded in understanding. "Sooo what do I do, torch the place?"

"I imagine that would work," Loki agreed dryly, "If we could make sure all others in the place are evacuated first."

As if listening to him, all doors branching into the foyer banged open with enough force to bounce them against the walls. All at once a wall of yelling reached Darcy's ears, and she winced, covering them as the two Tweedles came wailing into sight, high heels gripped in their manicured hands and arms still linked. They looked hilarious, their tear-streaked faces as identical as their outfits, and Darcy idly wondered what they'd seen tonight.

The two girls stopped short at the sight of Darcy, and screamed anew, in some sort of exclamation of relief. They seemed to scream a lot.

"Doors were shutting themselves!" One cried. "A vase fell over!" the other continued.

_If that's the extent of their encounters tonight, they can count themselves lucky,_ Darcy thought. But she grabbed each in a comforting hug, patting bony shoulders and murmuring assurances that it was alllllll part of the tour, that's all. They quieted, hiccupping, and Darcy was glad to note Loki had abandoned the magical light in favor of the flashlights they had with them. She assumed he'd made himself invisible to everyone but her, and was glad. She wasn't gonna explain him away, too, or get charged for an additional person on the tour.

At last, Thor and Jane came strolling into the room, looking for all the world very pleased with themselves. They stopped short at the sight of the freaked-out Tweedles, and the worse-for-wear Darcy. Jane was wearing Thor's jacket, and she unconsciously tugged the collar up to cover what looked like bite-marks on her neck. Darcy snorted, covering it with a cough just as Purple Polo raced into the room, panting, followed by the trio of costumed men. None looked too happy; Brawny Brad's shirt was ripped, and the devil guy's horns were missing.

"Er, is everyone okay?" Purple Polo managed, doubled over as he struggled to catch his breath. "Just, well, what a spooktacular night, huh?" He seemed to be feigning nonchalance, as he headed towards the front door.

"Hope you all enjoyed tonight!" He said, reaching for the doorknob. When it didn't open, he made a small "huh!" noise, pulling his keys from his pocket. "Didn't think I locked that." When the key turned in the lock and the front door finally opened, it became a race between the Tweedles and Darcy to clear the building.

* * *

Lunging towards one of the porch's support beams once she was outside, Darcy gulped in fresh air, ignoring the strange looks from the other tour participants as they passed. Becoming aware of Loki's phantasmal hand on her back, patting it apologetically, she calmed infinitely faster.

Everyone but her was now on the driveway, walking back to the vehicles, and she turned to murmur a quick thanks to Loki for coming to get her, only to see no one there. And still feel the pressure on her back. Her blood chilled.

"Darcy!" The faint call behind her whipped her head around, and she spotted Loki waving from the driveway, near an unaware Jane and Thor, who were waiting as well.

She walked stiffly down the porch steps, afraid to look back until she reached the safety of the group. Then she looked back once, just as the moon came out fully from a cluster of clouds, illuminating the face of the abandoned mansion.

A figure was standing at a window, watching them.

Of _course_ a figure was standing at the window watching her, Darcy thought. Why not. But as she stared harder, she identified it as a woman, one who looked very sad.

If Darcy were trapped in some afterlifey limbo, in a decrepit old house and by herself, the girl herself mused, she'd be miserable too. No canoodling with Loki, no anything.

Giving a brief nod towards the house, Darcy turned back to her friends, casting a meaningful glance at the projection of Loki, which vanished after a nod in response.

* * *

She never could discuss the weird events of the ghost tour with anyone but Loki, but Darcy was okay with that.

Inexplicably, the Anderson estate had caught fire in the wee hours of November first, and burned beyond even the salvage crew's abilities. The rest of the house had been demolished promptly, and soon no trace of the original structure existed. Weeds and scrub grass quickly grew over any remnants of the structure, which seemed to quickly fade from local lore.

A few weeks after the events of that Halloween night, Darcy was deciding the menu for Thanksgiving, googling different recipes while simultaneously browsing a tab showing a travel agency website.

Loki was lounging in an armchair, long legs draped over the edge as he re-read something or other of Tolstoy's.

"What if we went to the north pole for Christmas?"

"Why would you-"

"Well, maybe _elves_ exist, too-" "-They do, Darcy, but not the sort you mean-" "-and I could like, bum one off Santa and it could do my laundry…"

* * *

**Thanks for reading! ~Bon**


End file.
